<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Late by CrystallizedTwilight</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27893110">Late</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystallizedTwilight/pseuds/CrystallizedTwilight'>CrystallizedTwilight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:42:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,799</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27893110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystallizedTwilight/pseuds/CrystallizedTwilight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>James Church is always late. But maybe not this time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elder Church/Elder Thomas (Book of Mormon Musical)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Late</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The bed feels different. </p><p>Softer, larger, more comfortable than the cots at the mission home, James Church thinks. It is familiar but it doesn’t feel like <em>his</em> anymore. More specifically, this whole bedroom belonged to a different person than the one who returned from Uganda two years later. </p><p>The sleeping arrangements he had known on his trip were barely large enough to hold one and yet they held two. Here in America, his bed was large enough for three and only held one. He’s drowning in the scent of fabric softer and crisp cotton sheets as the tears roll back onto his pillow. </p><p>He’d take that cot back in seconds if Chris was beside him.</p><p>The first year in Uganda was a <em>ride </em>to say the least. In such a short time he’d managed to lose his faith, face his past traumas, and start a new <em>religion</em>. He supposes he has Price and Cunningham to thank for all of that. It hadn’t been what he was expecting his trip to be at all but, in all fairness, the entirety of district 9 felt the same.</p><p>Still, what had undoubtedly changed him most was Chris Thomas. That’s why his <em>second </em>year in Uganda was even more of a whirlwind in the best, if confusing, way possible. No one had ever woken up with him like Chris had, petting his hair, taking on the burden of James’ nightmares even though he didn’t need to. Helping him shoulder them, soothing him through it all.</p><p>No one had ever managed to get him to open up about his his mother’s abuse or his father going to jail. No one had ever told him, “It’s not your fault” before. No one had ever made him feel safe enough to cry, and <em>let</em> him cry, like Chris had. No one had ever played him a song on the ukulele, adding his name to the lyrics in the hopes of making him laugh. </p><p>No one had held him like that before, and certainly no one had ever kissed him like that, so quietly in that little cot.</p><p>And just when James considered that maybe he <em>could</em> be loved despite his flaws, he suddenly realized his greatest flaw of all—he was always late. Late for his mother, late for himself, and <em>definitely</em> too late for Chris. So, when they part at the airport with an awkward hug and a vague invitation to “text me anytime,” James knows it is this very flaw that prevented him from having something great. </p><p>What took the rest of the world a week to realize its feelings took James Church <em>two damn years</em> and, even then, he let Chris off with a formal, “Yeah, you too.” While he waited to figure things out, it was unfair to ask the world to wait with him. Lives other than his had to go on, so he made the call that they should just be friends, mostly by saying nothing, standing by passively, as he always had.</p><p>So now he lays in his clean, soft bed and weeps.</p><p>Just before his erratic breathing gets loud enough to wake his mother down the hall, he remembers the stale airport proposal and hopes that it is still good one month later. He dials the number and is well aware that it is 2 AM and unreasonable to be calling anyone but he’s so desperate that his chest aches. He’s not even sure that he believes in miracles at all anymore but he’d be damned if the sound of Chris’ voice tonight wasn’t one in all it’s glory.</p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>“Chris?” James asks, voice already way off kilter.</p><p>“James? Hey, it’s,” There’s a pause where James can only assume Chris is checking the hour but is too polite to mention it, “What’s up? You okay?”</p><p>And James doesn’t know what to say. <em>I miss you? I’m in love with you? I’m sorry it took me so long to realize? I’m panicking, I’m alone, I need you right now? </em>He’s choked by too many choices and just opts for covering his mouth with his hand to silence whatever embarrassing sob that would have come out of him, leaving Chris with silence. </p><p>He holds the phone like it’s the last little bit of his partner that he can cling to and contemplates the vast span of the distance between them. Chris wasn’t his original mission brother so he wasn’t from the same church. Hell, he wasn’t even from the same <em>state</em>. </p><p>In all actuality Chris was originally McKinley’s partner but, as it the Church of Arnold formed, McKinley paired up with Price, Cunningham paired with Nabulungi, James’ partner (Davis) paired with Neeley and that’s a long-winded way of saying Chris wasn’t even <em>close</em> to Cheyenne, Wyoming.</p><p>“James? Hey…talk to me?”</p><p>Once again, <em>late</em>. Awful timing, even down to the hour. Only now it was affecting others’ sleep schedules so James swallows hard and parts from the phone, “I’m sorry, it’s late, I should’ve waited ‘till morning.”</p><p>“James Church don’t you hang up. I’m right here, talk to me, please. Are you hurt, are you safe? Was it another nightmare?”</p><p>James wipes his eyes and hesitantly leans into the phone once more. He decides on something that doesn’t really address the root of his problem but the statement still begs to hear Chris’ voice, so that’s enough right now, “I didn’t realize how hard it would be. Readjusting.”</p><p>He can almost hear the sigh of relief on the other end that Chris tries to hide, comforted to know that the reason for the call wasn’t life-threatening, “Yeah, it’s crazy. I almost forgot how to use a washing machine. And I don’t have to wait months for pop-tarts to arrive they’re just, like, I forgot how accessible everything is here. Feels really fast.”</p><p>“But does it still feel familiar?”</p><p>“Some parts do. Some don’t. They turned her room into storage space.”</p><p>James quiets, understanding, “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Does it feel familiar to you?”</p><p>“It does but that’s not the problem,<em>” </em>Jamesconfesses, running his fingers through his damp hair. God, he was stalling even now. If he had learned anything in Uganda, it was that sometimes you needed to follow your heart even if it was hard. </p><p>So, for the first time in his life, he decides to act when his feelings are at their peak. Not after he’s had time to think about them, tuck them safely away, convince himself he doesn’t have them. No more turning it off. Jesus, he owed this boy everything for changing his life for the better, certainly he also owed him his <em>honesty</em>.</p><p>“Nowhere is going to feel like home without you.”</p><p>“James…”</p><p>“I fell in love with you and I let you go because I’m just a <em>passive observer</em> of everything, including my own life,” James whispers into the receiver, “Now I’m states away in a house that doesn’t feel like mine on a phone call I shouldn’t have made with no one to blame but myself.”</p><p>There’s a beat of silence where they both try to figure out where to go from here. James rests his elbows on his knees as he sits in bed and cradles his forehead, feeling small, feeling every godforsaken <em>inch</em> of all those miles in between them.</p><p>“James, I…I wish I had known.”</p><p>“I know. I’m late to everything,” James admits, exhausted. The response isn’t <em>I love you, too</em> so that’s enough of an answer. James nods and breathes deep, “I’m sorry…thank you…it was good to hear your voice.”</p><p>James turns his phone off for the night because he just can’t deal with any more of this until tomorrow. So, he doesn’t answer the phone when Chris tries to call back. Nor does he answer the ten texts that get sent in a row. Or respond to the voicemail. The only thing he<em> does </em>answer is the knock on the door around noon the next day.</p><p>And Chris looks so beautiful in casual clothes.</p><p>Jeans and a pink shirt with some sort of pattern. It’s very him, despite James having never seen him in anything other than his uniform, and his heart beats wild. Yet, even more beautiful than how he looked was how willing Chris was to act on his own heart. James always booked his flights six months beforehand, comparing airlines for weeks and, God, Chris must have just driven to the airport and said ‘give me whatever gets me to him fastest.’</p><p>So, they stare at each other, panting for just a beat, until they both move in for their first kiss in the states. James hadn’t even realized he was shaking until Chris pets his cheek, standing on his toes to reach his height, whispering, “It’s okay. It’s okay.”</p><p>“Stay here for a bit? I don’t know if you already booked a hotel but I’ll cover the cost—”</p><p>“No hotel. Barely any luggage,” Chris says, smiling very sweetly, so tired but so joyful, “Kinda jumped on a plane and didn’t plan the rest.”</p><p>“Wish I was brave enough to do that.”</p><p>“You <em>did</em> do that. For Uganda. And I’m so glad you did, James, because I got to fall in love with you there.”</p><p>Chris kisses him again and it’s so soft and nice and <em>perfect</em>. James knows right then and there that eternal life with Jesus Christ paled in comparison to one, ephemeral one with Chris. He thinks, now, Heaven is wherever you make it. And despite standing quite open and exposed on the front porch, James doesn’t feel any shyness about reminding himself how soft Chris’ golden hair is.</p><p>“Look, the truth is, I didn’t come just to <em>visit,” </em>Chris admits, nodding against James’ forehead, “My whole house makes me dwell on old memories and, well, I want to make <em>new </em>ones. I’m twenty-one and I’ve been wanting to get my own place, anyway. Was kinda thinking, if you want, you and I could get one here in Cheyenne?”</p><p>That’s exactly what James wants. </p><p>That’s probably what he always wanted, even before he had hopped his plane home. More truthfully, from very first time they kissed in the hot Ugandan summer, pressed in a cot, tangled in heartstrings.</p><p>Undeniably, this was a second chance if he was ever going to be blessed with one so he swears to himself he’ll never let Chris Thomas wonder about his feelings ever again. From now on, he’s going to let him know every day just how very loved he is.</p><p>But for the time being, Chris is welcomed inside and James’ mother makes them a glorious breakfast, eager to hear all about their past adventures together as well as the brand new one on which they were about to embark.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The End</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>